


Selkie Tales

by yuletide_archivist



Category: The Secret of Roan Inish (1994)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-12-22
Updated: 2003-12-22
Packaged: 2018-01-25 07:56:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1640072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yuletide_archivist/pseuds/yuletide_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eamon tells Fiona a story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Selkie Tales

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Diantiquarian

 

 

 _Selkie Tales_

Disclaimer: The characters are from The Secret of Roan Inish; I didn't create them and I don't own them. 

* 

After their picnic lunch was finished, Jamie wandered off to roam the hills, and Fiona began to clumsily gather the dishes. Eamon was busy looking at the sea; by the time he noticed that there was work to be done Fiona had finished, and was settling back down beside him. 

"You see that," said Eamon, pointing to a dark spot in the waves. It ducked under. "Seals. They're all about the island lately." He leaned forward and rested his chin on his fists. "There's not often half so many." 

Fiona gazed solemnly at the sea. Her hair was sticky with windblown sea-salt, and it drifted in tangles around her face. She brushed it aside for a better look, squinting. "I can't see them." 

"They're hiding," Eamon told her. His voice was playful. "Spying on us. You, likely. That little seal of yours come to carry you off as his bride . . ." 

"Jacques." Fiona grinned, and her whole face brightened. "I don't believe you." 

"Not even after --" Eamon waved an arm in the direction Jamie had run. 

"No," said Fiona. She raised her knees to wrap her arms around them, and her starched skirt flapped a little in the wind. Patiently she smoothed the skirt down. "Some stories are just stories." 

"That's true," Eamon admitted. He grinned at her. "And some aren't." 

After a little while Fiona turned her head to him, ignoring the wisps of hair that whipped against her face. She said, "Will you tell me the story?" 

In answer he began. 

"Every year the seals choose a king. The king is the strongest of all the seals, and the most cunning. He rules the seals from his palace under the sea, but not alone. Every year the king chooses one of the island girls to steal away as his queen. He chooses the prettiest girl, or the kindest, or the most hardworking." At that Eamon looked sideways at Fiona; she giggled. "He likes his palace whitewashed well, you know." 

"You're teasing," said Fiona. "He doesn't really." 

"Not, he doesn't really." Eamon paused for a moment. "Maybe just the prettiest. But he always chooses a girl with golden hair. Do you know why?" 

Fiona touched her own pale hair absently. "Why?" 

"It's for his palace's roof. From far away it looks like gold, but it's human hair it's made of." Eamon snatched up a pebble and tossed it idly. "Humans live forever in the selkie palace, but every girl the king brings down there tries to leave. So she drowns." 

"Why does she leave?" Fiona asked, when Eamon paused. 

"Because she gets homesick," Eamon guessed. "You can't live with the seals forever. You'd get lonely without our grandparents and Jamie and me." 

"I wouldn't go with the seal king," Fiona said placidly. 

"Why do you think you'd have a choice?" Eamon said, laughing a little grimly. "You couldn't fight the selkie king yourself." 

Fiona straightened her back. "Yes I could. And you'd help me." 

Eamon gave her a quick smile and continued. "One of the girls, once, fell in love with the seal king. She stayed there without trying to escape for longer than any of the others. When she died it was of old age, not drowning. Her name was Ana." 

"Ana," Fiona echoed. She had stopped looking at Eamon and was gazing out at the waves. 

"The selkie king brought her down there, but he hadn't expected her to love him." Eamon set the pebble down and folded his hands in his lap. "He was an ugly beast, all scarred from fighting the others, and he had no idea how to be gentle with a woman. He thought he'd get a pretty queen and a handful of golden hair for the palace roof out of it." 

He followed Fiona's gaze out to the water, and saw a few dark heads floating in the ocean. They were nearer than they had been, ringing in a semicircle right in front of the cliff. Pale sunlight glanced off their sleek heads and shattered on the tossing waves. 

"The seals are listening to you," said Fiona, enchanted. She leaned forward, eyes fixed on the dark heads. "Go on, tell the story." 

"I'm telling it," Eamon said. "The selkie king was rude to Ana, and she was a spirited girl, so she was rude right back to him. He tried to punish her for her insolence, but she wouldn't be punished. She tried to gentle him as best she could, but she didn't care much for him." 

He reached for the pebble again, and tossed it lightly toward the water; it fell short, and rolled a ways away from the edge of the cliff. Eamon shrugged and continued. "They couldn't live together for very long without learning to get along, though. The selkie king forgot to be rude, and Ana grew to like his company. He wasn't kind, and he was very ugly, but he was the wisest of the seals, and they talked together a great deal. He told her the stories of the seals, and she told him the stories her mother and grandmother had told her." 

"They didn't live near Roan Inish," he said, "and some of the people on the nearest island still hunted seals. Once they came after the selkie king to kill him for his skin. They wounded him, but he escaped into the sea. He was bleeding something awful when he got to the palace. The seals thought he would die." 

"But he didn't, did he?" Fiona asked. She was looking intently into Eamon's face again. 

"No, he didn't. He swam to his bedroom. Ana was there, and she patched up his wounds. Only human hands can heal wounds that humans have given, you know. She had nothing to bind up his wounds with, so she cut off her yellow hair and bound them with that until the bleeding stopped." 

"Did she like him that much?" Fiona asked. 

Eamon thought for a moment. "She didn't like to see another living creature in pain," he said. "But afterward she grew to care for him. He was weak. He needed her to heal him completely, and he was nicer because of it. She nursed him back to health. By then it was too late for the selkie king to go back to being gruff. He was grateful, and he brought her presents -- pearls, pretty shells, gold coins he found in the water. They loved each other." 

"What about her family?" Fiona tilted her head a little, unconsciously, and bit her lower lip. "They must have missed her." 

"She didn't have any family," Eamon said. "She'd been nearly an orphan, with only her father to raise her, and he'd died before the selkie king had taken her away." 

"Oh." She looked thoughtful. 

"The selkies pick a new king every year, but Ana's selkie won the fights for years. She'd fixed up all his old wounds and he was stronger than ever. So he was king for a long time, and he was a good king." Eamon yawned and leaned back on his elbows. The shadows were lengthening and the wind was beginning to chill. He was tired. They would have to go back soon. 

"What happened?" Fiona said finally. "What happened to Ana?" Her eyes were on him, huge dark eyes like a seal's with shadows under them that had only recently begun to fade. Her face was pale and wondering, and the feathery hair made a ghostly halo around it. 

"She turned into a selkie," Eamon told her. 

"How could a human turn into a seal?" she asked. 

"Nobody knows." Eamon grinned again at her and stood up. "She loved him, and he loved her. They found a way." 

Fiona stood up, too, brushing crumbs from her skirt and pushing tangles of hair behind her face. When she turned the sunset blazed in her eyes, and she winced. She scanned the island with one hand held against her forehead. "I don't see Jamie." 

"He'll come," said Eamon. 

She slipped her hand into his, and leaned her golden head against his arm. "If you're ever hurt I'll use my hair to bind the wound," she said. 

Eamon laughed. "Better use bandages," he said. "Hair's not the best there is for stopping blood." 

Fiona lifted her face and smiled up at him. "I meant if there weren't any bandages," she said. 

"I know." Eamon squeezed her hand. "And I'll help you fight off the selkie king if he comes for you." He hesitated, then stepped nearer the edge of the cliff, peering over at the ocean and the seal heads bobbing in the foam. There were at least seven of them, all near the cliff and with their faces turned up toward it as though they'd been listening. Maybe they had. 

They found Jamie and headed home, Fiona with her hand still tucked into Eamon's and her eyes bright. As they stepped into the cottage, she stood on her tiptoes and whispered in his ear, "It was a wonderful story." 

 


End file.
